


Battle In The Mists

by Dragonwolf_Dreamwalker



Series: The Adventures of Dragonwolf [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 13:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18575359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonwolf_Dreamwalker/pseuds/Dragonwolf_Dreamwalker
Summary: Having been through more battles than they cared to count, a pair of grizzled veterans now must deal with the turmoil caused not only by the mysterious new land that appeared since the Cataclysm, but also with Garrosh's rising power...and insanity.





	Battle In The Mists

Dragonwolf shook her head. "Garrosh, you're going to get us all killed," she said to herself as she walked out of Grommash Hold. The Horde's new warchief, Garrosh Hellscream, put the "war" in "warchief," that's for sure. In just two years, since Thrall named him successor, Garrosh managed to fracture the Horde factions, kill the Tauren High Chieftan, and turn Orgrimmar into a fortress.

Garrosh just got done ordering General Nazgrim to gather his best warriors to raid the new land an Alliance warship ran into...literally. No one's sure how that happened, or even where this new land came from. The Shamans suspect it was revealed after the Cataclysm.

Dragonwolf was among those warriors. As a Druid who specialized in both infiltration and raw power tactics, it would be her job to go deep into the new land, find out what the Alliance were doing, and put a stop to it. No matter the cost.

It was a suicide mission. They all knew it. They also knew better than to cross the mad Warchief and his Kor’kron minions. “This is not going to end well,” Dragonmaster said to her in their shared tongue, Taurahe. Dragonwolf shook her head in agreement.

Dragonmaster had been Dragonwolf’s companion since the days they fought the Black Dragonflight in Blackrock Mountain, so it was no surprise that she insisted he come on the mission with her, despite him being a Shaman. It would complicate the infiltration part, since, of all the gifts the Shamans had, stealth was not one of them. But no matter. He was one of the few seasoned warriors left that Dragonwolf could trust with her own life, especially after she lost a number of old friends to the invasion of the Burning Legion, then again to the Cataclysm. She wasn’t going to let Garrosh have her closest friend.

“So how are we getting to this place, again?” The Shaman asked as he mounted his black war kodo.

“The zepplins are waiting for us near the harbor. They built a new tower there specifically for this,” Dragonwolf replied as she mounted her trusty black war raptor.

“Let me guess, run by Kor'kron.”

Dragonwolf nodded as the weary pair rode through the gates and down the dusty path to the docks. “One day, this war will end,” she sighed.

“Let's hope we live to see that day.”

"Hey now! We beat Deathwing, remember? And Arthas. And as I recall it, you two were instrumental in taking out Nefarian and Ragnaros back in the day! And _how many_ Old Gods have you helped defeat? If anyone will survive this, it's you!" The imperfect Taurhe came from a Blood Elf, who trotted up on the warhorse in regalia that announced his position in the Blood Knight order. Tan'daras, although a relative newcomer, was another of the dwindling number of veterans of this never-ending war with the Alliance. He had joined them during the expedition into Outland and had been a trusted friend ever since.

Dragonwolf smirked. He wasn't totally wrong. The odds of this island, shrouded in mystery though it may be, producing something even close to the likes of any of the Black Dragonflight were slim. Still...

She stopped. "How many of the Old Gods _have_ we defeated?"

It took a moment for the question to sink in to the others before they, too, stopped and turned to face her. The gravity of her question was already starting to weight on Dragonmaster, but Tan'daras wasn't so quick. He switched back to speaking his more familiar shared tongue of Orcish as he mused, "let's see, if I remember my battle history correctly, there was C'Thun in the Temple of Ahn'Qiraj. Then there was Yogg-Saron," the elf shuddered at the name, the memory of the mind-fuck that was the battle against Yogg-Saron, "he was in Ulduar. There are two more the historians know about, but their locations remain unknown, though it's said N'Zoth was behind Deathwing..." suddenly the realization dawned, "...you...you don't think this is the working of another one of them, do you?"

Dragonwolf shrugged. "It's possible. I've been hearing messengers from this new place, this...Pandaria...of unnatural phenomena that share similarities to the effects I've seen of C'Thun, and the Druid outriders have been reporting strange occurrences at the edges of the Emerald Dream. Something certainly has been awakened since the events of the Cataclysm."

Dragonmaster nodded, "the spirits have been...different, as well. I had chalked it up to the disturbances wrought by the Cataclysm, but something has been lingering even since things have calmed. We must tread lightly in this new place, and consult with our respective Orders about this the first chance we get."

Even more somber from this revelation, the trio boarded the zepplin. Dragonmaster read the plaque, "Hellscream's Fist. Well, this bodes well, doesn't it?"


End file.
